


Gardenia

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Series: Convenient Group of Femslash Fics [20]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Depression, F/F, Modern AU, Trans Female Character, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7855411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an advertisement in the roommate wanted section.</p><p>An open room for a woman down on her luck. The owner of the place is well enough off that she doesn't need help with the rent, but after throwing out her partner, she doesn't want to be alone.</p><p>It's the closest thing to a light shining out of the clouds that Maria is ever going to see.</p><p>But how will Angelica Schuyler react when she opens the door to find the woman who played such a critical role in the dissolution of her sister's marriage?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There were at least five cultural norms that Maria was breaking, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Clutched the craigslist ad that she’d printed out at the library like it was the last thing keeping the lights on at the end of the tunnel. Like it was gravity and without it, she might float away.

Then again, neither of these things were wrong. Maria felt like she’d been floating for too long. Unable to touch the ground, drifting between safe houses and park benches, shelters and food kitchens.

At the bottom of the ad, there was a number but Maria was all out of minutes and pay phones weren’t so common anymore, could only pray that the woman was there. That she’d understand.

Because this was the first time she’d felt like doing anything in weeks. Like maybe, just maybe she could get her feet under her again. Browsing craigslist in the library was how she wasted her time, enjoyed the free internet, the air conditioning, the fact that the women behind the counter didn’t watch to see what she might steal.

Libraries, Maria believed, were the churches of the new age.

Sometimes she liked to go through the roommates wanted section, pretending that there would be one just for her. It would say ‘Addict Wanted.’ It would say ‘Room free to a good home.’ It would say ‘Needs some tlc, looking for a roommate that needs the same.’

What it said instead was much better. The woman, who only identified herself as A, over shared. Told the story of love gone awry, of the man she’s kicked out. How she could afford the place on her own, but she hated being alone. Was opening up her guest room to a woman in need.

Maria considered that the comment about companionship might be a subtle hint at alternative payment, but this wasn’t something she could risk turning down.

It took her two bus rides to get close enough to start walking, and the watch she bought at Walmart stopped working two weeks ago. Maria knew it was just after four when she left the library, but she also knew the sun was out then. The rain had soaked through her dress, and Maria knew without looking that her backpack was probably drenched too.

There went tomorrow’s clothes.

As Maria reached the road she was supposed to be on, she stared. These weren’t apartments. They were houses.

Stomach acid built in her throat, but it was this or accepting that she’d wasted the afternoon and couldn’t go the final mile.

So Maria took a deep breath and knocked on that red front door, held it until someone answered the door. “Hi, I saw your ad-”

A looked her up and down, and Maria felt her stomach plummet when the woman sneered. “Aren’t you Maria Lewis? That girl who slept with my sister’s husband?”

The statement slammed into her like a knife. It wasn’t a night she thought of often. A said sister, so she must be a Schuyler. The headline flashed in her head, one of the last newspapers she ever bothered to buy. Disgraced congressman uses affair as alibi in murder trial. They’d even been so kind as to include a picture of her climbing out of his car wearing a red dress.

Maria hadn’t worn red since. Hadn’t really known who he was, just another man who sometimes bought her food, let her spend the night in the hotel room.

If she’d known that he was married, she might not have accepted the offer. But Maria had been so young, how was she supposed to know?

Before Maria could defend herself, the door slammed in her face.

She crumbled, because really, there was nothing left to do. Maybe A would call the cops. Have her dragged off the property. Vaguely Maria knew that’s a risk she doesn’t want to take, but the rain was beating down, almost loud enough to drown out the static electricity in her head.

There was a gas station on the other side of town that would let her take leftover hotdogs if she helped them clean up at the end of the night. A tailor with a warm smile that’d been known to let her crash on his couch in exchange for a quick pair of hands.

But she still didn’t know what time it was.

When the door reopened, Maria flinched.

But A didn’t scream at her, didn’t berate her, didn’t threaten to call the cops. “You look like a drowned rat, I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I don’t at least offer you a shower.”

Maria swallowed, nodded as she took the offered hand, allowed it to pull her to her feet. “Thank you, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

There was a look, and Maria hated that she knew what A was thinking. That it was obvious how much Maria needed this, needed handouts, obviously couldn’t take care of herself. Maria was doing the best she could, though.

She knew most people did not believe that. Maria was a smart girl. Smart enough to know that this, too, was an offer she couldn’t afford to lose.

Apologized for leaving puddles of water on the floor as A showed her the way to the bathroom. “Hold on-” A said suddenly.

Disappeared only to come back with a tank top and some sweatpants folded on top of a towel. “Everything you’ve got is soaked through. If you want, once you’re done, you could throw them in the wash.”

In the wash. Meaning A wasn’t going to throw her out immediately. Was letting her borrow clothes.

As she allowed the hot water to run over her, Maria felt a small flicker of hope returning. Even if this couldn’t be a long-term arrangement, maybe A was willing to let her stay the night. Why else would the woman offer her dry clothes? It seemed pointless if A was only going to throw her out into the rain.

Awkwardly she used the offered towel to dry herself off, ringing out her hair the best that she could. Pulled on the other woman’s clothes, rolling up the waistband to keep the pants on. Carefully she picked up her wet clothing and wrapped them in the towel so that she could go find her temporary savior and get further instruction.

“Here,” A murmured when she saw her, waving her on to a small room with the washer and dry. “Just right in there. I made some coffee while you were in the shower if you’d like some.”

Maria didn’t drink coffee, the good stuff cost too much for her budget. She was also far too anxious to say no to anything right now. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Angelica,” the woman corrected, heading into the kitchen. “Go ahead and sit in the living room. I’ll bring you a mug.”

The living room was nice. It was better than nice, really, but Maria didn’t have the vocabulary to talk about the flat screen tv on the wall or the large plush white couch. Couldn’t imagine the kind of confidence one must have to own a white couch and to allow a stranger to drink in there with the decorative pink throw pillows and crystal vases.

When Angelica pressed the mug into her hand, it felt warmer than Maria’d been in ages and she took a sip. Made sure to keep the cringe off her face when the taste was too strong, too bitter. She has had years of experience at faking a smile, at taking what she’s been given without complaint. “Thank you, Ma- Angelica.”

“I don’t have much here, the bastard used to cook for us.” Maria didn’t have to ask who the bastard is, wondered what happened to cause Angelica to throw him out. “But I could order take out?”

Maria glanced out the window, through the beautiful pink curtains, to the rain that was still falling in sheets. “I’d hate to make anyone leave in this. I’m fine. Thank you for letting me come in.”

“I shouldn’t have shut the door, it was just a bit of a shock to see you there. I love Eliza more than anything but-” Angelica sighed, lifting up her glasses so that she could rub at her eyes- “You’re practically a child.”

“I’m twenty-two.” That probably wasn’t much of a defense. Hamilton had been almost twice her age, his wife similar. Angelica definitely had a few years on her. “I just- thanks. It’s been a long time since someone-”

Maria let the sentence drop, suddenly unwilling to be that open. To be that vulnerable. There was staying in someone’s home, wearing their clothes, and there was honesty. Like being honest that she couldn’t remember the last time someone had been kind to her without expecting something in return.

Judging by the look on Angelica’s face, she didn’t actually need Maria to say it to know it. They sat together in silence until Maria sat her cup down and Angelica took it as a sign to stand up. “Do you want me to bring you blankets here, or show you to the guest room?”

“You’re going to let me-” She must seem like a fool not being able to complete her sentences, but at the same time, saying it out loud would make it real.

Angelica shrugged awkwardly. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow? I don’t know what you do during the day but if you still need a place to stay tomorrow night, I guess we could try and figure out something then.”

That was the best that Maria could ask for.


	2. Chapter 2

There were still roses on her dresser.

Staring back at her with their wilted edges. Angelica found herself unable to look away, unsure of what she was doing. Could hear the little voice in the back of her head. The one that seemed to be repeating her vows endlessly. Funny things, wedding vows. They never took into consideration that people changed. Priorities changed. Of course, no couple wanted to think about that on their wedding day, so could she blame them?

The wedding itself had been beautiful, all those years ago. They'd eloped, run away to the Bahamas for a private ceremony. Father had worried that the marriage might have an impact on his polling numbers. That the press would dig into it, dig into her- find out things he wasn't ready for them to know.

That was the thing about having a Senator for a father, they always thought that their families lives should revolve around the risk of embarrassment. Maybe if she'd been taking risque photos or running around drunk, she would have understood. No, he hadn't been repressing a little bad behavior. Just the truth about who she was.

Unlike with John, Angelica loved her father all the same. At least he'd done his best to get things moving rather than refuse to accept her for who she was. Sometimes, when she was feeling less than kind, Angelica considered it as just another attempt to avoid a scandal. Better to let his eldest child transition in middle school, when less people who know she was, than have it come out years later.

Then again, that had been before he became a senator. Was just a business man. Less eyes on them, especially because he had tried to shield his children from the limelight. The only people who would ever be able to out her were family, a handful of tutors, maybe a preschool teacher.

It still reminded her that for many, she was already living beyond her worth. That Angelica was throwing it in the faces of her sisters by turning away a man who loved her. Or said he did. Angelica wasn't sure how much she believed that.

The promises seemed as sincere as the roses.

Angelica smoothed her slip down before reaching for her dress. She refused to waste any more time on such reminiscing. What was, was. Besides, right now there were more important things to focus on. Like the fact that she had a near stranger in her home. John would hate that. For someone who claimed that he fell in love with her for her caring nature, he had an awful lot to say about when she extended kindness to those he felt undeserving.

A glance at the clock confirmed that she had time before work and Angelica took a deep breath. Time to face the music.

Stopped two steps into the hallway to double back for the vase. Dropped the roses into the trash in the kitchen before stepping into the living room. Found Maria sitting extremely still, clothes Angelica had given her folded by her side and her backpack by her feet.

Looking like she expected to be thrown out.

After the way Angelica had behaved last night, could she blame her? "What are your plans for the day?"

Maria tugged awkwardly at the hoodie she'd been wearing last night. "There's a tailor- sometimes I work with him? I was going to try and catch the bus to visit him."

"His name wouldn't be Hercules, would it?" When Maria nodded, Angelica smiled. "I'll give you a ride, he works right by my office."

Did fantastic work. Between Angelica and her friends, they probably paid his rent. Hercules was a rare talent, and if it weren't for how good he was at tailoring, she'd wonder why he was in the business. Attractive, kind, and one of the smartest men she'd had the pleasure to meet. Some of the worry that had lingered slipped away. If Hercules trusted Maria? Then she was worth trusting.

As much as Angelica wanted to hold what happened to Eliza against the girl, it was Alex showing his true colors. Maria had only been a vehicle. If it hadn't of been her, it would have been half a dozen other girls.

Once Angelica's gathered her things for work, she escorted Maria out to the car. Watched the girl climb into the front seat, all awkward limbs as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Angelica knew how that felt, though perhaps for different reasons.

The numbers on the clock spur her next decision. "Would you like to get breakfast with me? There's a little place on our way, serves a pretty mean waffle."

If they don't go, it's unlikely that she'll eat at all until lunch. If then. According to her boss, she has a bad habit of skipping meals. Tended to bury herself in whatever she was working on, didn't bother to resurface until someone came in or it was time to go home. Angelica considered it an asset, being a good worker- Washington considered it a health hazard. As if Martha didn't also miss a meal or two on occasion.

"I don't-" The statement fell to nothing, Maria red around the ears, looking pained.

Enough clues that Angelica can put together the picture of what she was about to say. "My treat. It'll give me an excuse to eat inside rather than just clock in early. Boss already thinks I work myself to death enough."

It hadn't always been that way. She'd been working under Washington for the past ten years, her second adult job out of college. Back then, things with John had still been good- she'd had a reason to go home at five. Took vacations. To France, Germany, Kyoto. Fabulous places where she'd tried exquisite food, seen beautiful sights, and experienced new things with her husband. Each trip, usually spaced about six months apart, had brought them closer together. Made them worthy of the society pages. Of envy.

Until it hadn't. Until two trips became one became none. Until Angelica found herself turning off her cell phone at work, going in early and staying late. Refusing to care that John was doing the same thing. Called it being professionals, dedicated to their jobs. Up until she couldn't pretend it was that, to the point where she'd had to quietly ask for a divorce. Remind him of the paperwork they'd signed in the beginning, the one that meant he had to be silent about their relationship and what caused it's ending lest he wish to be heavily penalized for breach of contract.

Contract. It had all seemed so cynical at the time, but more than ever, Angelica was beginning to understand how true it was.

Beside her, Maria spoke up. "Hey? Are you okay?"

"Of course, why do you ask?" Not why wouldn't she be, not no, no she wasn't.

Maria's gaze shifted toward the window again. "I answered your question but you didn't respond. If you aren't feeling well, I can walk the rest of the way."

"I'd still have to go to work, it wouldn't save me any time or effort." It wasn't until Angelica had already said the words that she realized that probably didn't mean anything to Maria.

The comment had been less about worry that Angelica was going so far out of her way for Maria, and more a comment that she didn't have to go out of her way at all for Maria. That Maria would understand if Angelica wanted to drop her off and abandon her. Angelica tapped her nails against the steering wheel before making the decision for them.

Yes, they were going to breakfast. Desperate to not slip into tense silence or her own thoughts again, Angelica searched for a topic of conversation that wouldn't involve an immediate retreat. "How long have you been working with Hercules?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it working." For a horrifying moment, the thought occurred to Angelica that Maria might be working with the man in a more unique fashion. Not in the sense of tailoring, either. "I help do some of the small stuff. Hem jobs, buttons. Clean up the shop for him. In return he lets me crash on his couch and feeds me lunch."

If she thought it would be appreciated, Angelica would talk to him about paying the girl. But it might be a pride thing, and the last thing that Angelica wanted was to step on her toes. Even though she didn't know the girl that well, the way she acted was enough.

Maria didn't trust anyone further than she could see them, and yet she'd shown up at Angelica's door. Hadn't run when Angelica slammed the door in her face.

It took a hell of a circumstance to make someone that scared stay.

Angelica exhaled as she parked the car, plastering on her happy face so that she could turn to look at Maria. "Really, my treat. Get whatever you want- you obviously know who my family is and I would be well off even without them."

"I'm-" Maria's knuckles were pale from the grip she had on her seat belt- "I have to pay you back. I can't-"

Take favors. More favors, technically. What cost had people's kindness come at before? Had there been ones worse than Hamilton? Who had used her body, blamed her for the death of his marriage, and plastered her face everywhere for his crime? Angelica wanted to shake her head, to clear the thoughts. Settled for rolling her shoulders instead before climbing out of the car. "If you'd like- I meant it. The ad? I need company before I drive myself up the wall. Growing up with two sisters, I was rarely alone. If you kept staying with me, you could help me redecorate. Stuff like that."

Didn't want to suggest that Maria could become a maid or a cook for her, though she'd accept either if it made the woman more comfortable. It wasn't as if Angelica foresaw dating again any time soon, and she had no need of someone to split the rent. She'd been stuck between offering the room to someone in need and fostering a child- something that had ended up crossed off the list even before her second bottle of wine. Considering her hours, there was no way that she would be an acceptable guardian.

Maria shoved her hands in her pockets even as she stepped to join Angelica on the sidewalk outside of _The_ _Flying Biscuit._ "Okay."

That was probably as enthusiastic of an agreement as she was going to get.

Angelica would take it.


	3. Chapter 3

The bandaids were under the sink, and Maria snagged the box before heading downstairs. Chances were she'd end up pricking herself again and there was no reason not to bring them to the shop area.

"You find everything okay?" Hercules asked from his spot behind the sewing machine.

Whatever today's project was, it involved a lot of spandex paneling and Maria nudged it with her bandaged finger when she reached him. "I don't understand why we have to wear this stuff."

Not that Maria wore it very often. The media coverage during the trial had screwed over her one way of comfortable living. No one with a reputation to risk would be seen with her, and the men that tried after-

Hamilton hadn't been a good man. But he'd been a saint compared to some of them.

So she'd left the business. Which meant no more spandex, no more lace. Over the past three years, she's even plumped up a little. Something that seemed so contrary on the outside. But good food was expensive and no one was paying for a gym membership anymore. She had kept that up the first year, if for no other reason than something to do between jobs and the free showers were a plus. These days Hercules let her shower when she stayed at his place, and the shelters were usually pretty good about that too. Eventually, the monthly expense hadn't been worth it.

"Never underestimate the power of a sleek silhouette for some women." Hercules flipped the pair of panties he'd been sewing right side out and set them on the corner of his table before reaching for another piece of fabric, still some sort of tight material though Maria couldn't tell what it was going to be yet. "But you're also right that people shouldn't feel they have to look a certain way. Our job is to help bridge the gap."

To help people feel better about the way they looked by making sure clothes actually fit them correctly. In Hercules' opinion, nothing on the rack fit people, not properly. No, things were made to be bought by the most people possible. It was completely understandable that more people didn't get things made from scratch, but tailoring could make a 'meh' pair of jeans from a department store and turn them into something the person felt good in.

And people deserved to feel good about their bodies, no matter their size or shape. That was something Hercules believed in strongly. When she'd first met him, Maria had considered it a marketing campaign. It was a conversational tool to increase the number of customers in the door.

The thing about marketing campaigns was that there was no reason to spit them when there were no customers around, and Maria could hardly be considered a customer. But it'd continued. When there was time, he took her aside to show her different patterns, sharing which ones he thought accented which features.

Accented. Because even if he used spandex paneling on request, he believed in showing off what people liked, rather than hiding what they didn't.

Maria lingered at the table for a moment before returning to her own station. Let herself get lost in the pile of small fixes, only occasionally speaking up to ask Hercules what she should do next.

Around twelve, Hercules appeared in front of her. "Are you sure that I can't set up the couch for you?"

"It's not even lunchtime," Maria stuck the needle she'd been using in the little tomato cushion on her wrist. "And I don't know. I- I might have someone to stay with tonight?"

Hercules' head tilted to the side. "You seeing someone again?"

Seeing someone. The least judgemental way for him to phrase it and yet, Maria still flinched back. "Not like that."

Not clients. Not even a 'boyfriend' who only let her stay for the assumption that she wouldn't step out of line. When Hercules continued to watch her, Maria sighed. "There's a woman who put out an ad? She said she knew you. Angelica? One of the-"

"Ang? You're staying with Ang?" Hercules looked openly impressed. "Yeah, I'd rather stay with her too. How's she doing?"

Maria didn't know how to answer that question. She'd known Angelica for less than twenty-four hours and at least eight of that had been sleeping. Maybe two of those she'd actually engaged in real conversation with the woman. What was she able to say other than the fact that Angelica was nice? Quiet but nice. The initial frustration that the woman had shown when slamming the door in her face was as emotional as she'd been with Maria.

Rather than try to lie, she answered him honestly. "I'm not sure I'm in a place to tell you. She kicked out someone? Wanted company and didn't mind letting someone stay rent free."

Hercules nodded, though whether to what Maria said or to himself, she wasn't sure. "Good to hear Ang finally got rid of that asshole. Though, she probably would have preferred to tell me that herself." Maria went to apologize and Hercules waved off her concern. "No biggie. I'm the one who asked. I'm glad she realized she needed to have someone around. Probably remembers when Eliza ended things. Girl barely ate for a month. According to Ang, it took a while to pull her out of that hole. It's good that she's trying to prevent it."

Oh.

It wasn't as if Maria never thought of Hamilton's wife, she did. Especially in the beginning. For a long time, her name had been the whip Maria used against herself. Maria didn't get to be upset that there was nothing to eat, look at what she'd brought on herself. She didn't deserve that receptionist position, they were right to turn her away. Everyone knew what she'd done and no one would talk about it.

Eventually, self-flagellation seemed pointless. Whether she was atoning for something or not, she was where she was and she had to survive. God didn't put her on earth not to.

But the reminder, the facts- there was a difference between imagining how horrible being his wife was, and hearing for herself the truth of the matter. Maria's fingers dug her arm under the table, trying to pull herself back to earth.

"Maria?" Maria shook her head to gather her thoughts and looked up at Hercules. "I'm going upstairs to make sandwiches. You want to come?"

At least he hadn't asked why she was upset. Probably knew better than that by now. "That would be nice."

The best thing about Hercules living above his shop was that they could do this. It gave her less time to worry that she wasn't welcome crashing on his couch, didn't mean catching a ride, didn't have time to over think something as cheap as a sandwich.

Sitting with him at his little bar was nice too. No kitchen table meant they couldn't look at each other, but their thighs were flush and even though she wasn't attracted to him, touching someone was nice. If anything, it was even better because Hercules wouldn't want her like. No expectations of what she might owe him beyond what she could do with her needle and thread.

"So," Maria asked after a few bites. "How's your love life looking?"

Hercules snorted. "About as great as yours, I'm going to assume. Sometimes it feels like the only available guys in town just want to get off and get out."

"Sounds about right." It still sucked, though.

Maria could go the rest of her life without dating again and be happy, didn't need another man to push her around. If they weren't like James, using her attractiveness as a carrot to get what he wanted from others- they were like Hamilton. Always starving. Never bothering to pause and realize they've ripped the meat off the bone.

But Hercules? Hercules deserved to be happy. She knew it didn't take a partner to do that, but she also knew that the man was always looking. Had plenty of offers from women, even joked about taking a couple of them up on it. If only to see if maybe they could make it work. But attraction was attraction, and sadly, it seemed that Hercules' tastes didn't tend to want the same thing he did.

"Chin up-" Hercules knocked their shoulders together- "You get to live with the fabulous Angelica Schuyler. You'll be in the lap of luxury while I'm here. All alone, wondering how my Maria is doing."

Ridiculous man. It wasn't as if she was living with him. Never wanted to be too much of a bother, so unless the weather was bad, she never stayed more than two nights a week. Had always believed in keeping moving anyway, like if she slowed down, she wouldn't be able to get back up again. "If you'd like, you can stay with Angelica instead. I don't think she'd mind."

"I can see it now," Hercules teased. "A giant sleepover. It'll be the talk of the town."

Independent. Maria might have been independent minded, but Hercules actually was. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to give that up, to not try and find a better apartment. A better place to live. This shop was his and no one could take it away. One day, Maria hoped she was in a similar position. It didn't have to seem like a lot to anyone else, so long as it was hers.

Once they were done eating, it was back to the grindstone. Once she was done with the work he'd given her, she moved on to helping wash the things that needed to be washed. Disappeared upstairs to get the dishes as well and to pick up the little living area that she often slept in.

"You know," Hercules said without looking up when she came down the stairs. "You don't have to keep busy. If you'd like, I can drive you somewhere? Or are you waiting for Angelica?"

Maria shrugged awkwardly. "Waiting. She said she'd pick me up after work."

It felt weird knowing where she was going to sleep, to be turning Hercules' couch down. Like maybe she shouldn't, just in case. Because Angelica would forget her. Or come to her senses and realize that Maria was a stranger who had already ruined one Schuyler's life- why give her a chance to do it a second time?

A hand squeezed her shoulder, and Maria gave Hercules a shaky smile. "It'll be fine. I promise."

Maria could only hope he was right.


	4. Chapter 4

Grocery shopping had always been John's domain.

It wasn't as if it surprised her that grocery shopping was harder than expected. Angelica didn't cook, but still preferred to eat things that weren't hot pockets. Somewhere, vaguely, she remembered her mother having a ritual. Planning the week's meals so that she could know exactly what to shop for instead of tossing random things in her cart and hoping for the best.

Through marriage, it'd been John's responsibility. Before that, Angelica had gone with her college roommate, Maria Cosway. She'd always known what to do in every situation. Didn't freak out when Angelica accidentally poured dawn into the dishwasher and practically flooded the apartment. Kept the fridge stocked and blankets ready for when storms came through and knocked out their power. Held her hand through the all-nighters and didn't let her crush caffeine pills to snort no matter how much she'd wanted to at the time.

Some of her wondered if that was what this was, trying desperately to recreate what she'd had just before she ended up married.

"Are you sure you don't have any preferences?" Angelica asked as they walked through the aisles.

Maria didn't. 

Angelica considered threatening her with the worst. _I was thinking sardines and collards for dinner then, if that's good with you?_ Or, on the other side, knowing how awkward Maria felt around money- _Maybe filet mignon and caviar?_ But as much as this was frustrating, neither would accomplish anything. Maria probably wouldn't eat the latter, would suffer through the first. All without saying a word.

Angelica stared at the endless boxes of pasta noodles. "When I was a kid when had this chef? And whenever I was sad he'd make this really cheesy pasta dish. Daddy hated it, didn't think we needed our dinners spoiled. Do you have any food memories?"

When Maria cringed, Angelica caught her mistake. "I'm sorry. Probably- forget I asked."

While she didn't know the ins and outs of Maria's life, Angelica did know where she was at the moment. Knew that it took a lot for a family of privilege to just cast out someone to be homeless. As much as she hated to draw the comparison to her own situation, there were some secrets and shames best kept hidden rather than left on the streets. Maria likely hadn't started from money. Had probably been like this most of her life. 

"It's fine." It wasn't, but Angelica knew from experience that over apologizing didn't stop a wound from aching. "I- Mama used to take butter toast and sprinkle cinnamon sugar on it."

Angelica considered the admission for a moment, and if Maria had looked at her, she would have smiled. "Cinnamon sugar it is."

Cinnamon sugar. Bread. Butter. Three kinds of cheeses and pasta. Eggs, flour, and sugar because Peggy never failed to bring up that Alton Brown thought those were the most important things to grab from the pantry. From the supermarket. Those were the same thing, right?

How did normal people do this? Angelica didn't want a chef again, that had been over the top, perhaps only excusable because her parents had both been juggling jobs and three children. But maybe she would sign up for one of those services- the ones that would send her boxes of ingredients each week to make a meal or two. Maybe she'd sign up for three or four of them, have ready to cook meals delivered to her house every day of the week until she figured this out.

It would be something to focus her mind on, too. Learning to cook. Martha didn't like it when she worked too much, and considering how bad it'd gotten before the end of their relationship- Angelica wasn't going to lie to herself and claim the urge to overwork would be gone. Better to replace it with something else. Besides, men liked a woman who knew how to cook, didn't they? And she might be able to recreate some of the lovely meals she'd eaten over the years. No one could claim that cooking was a dangerous or unhealthy hobby either. A positive in her opinion.

Beside her, Maria followed. Mostly quiet and Angelica did her best not to over think it. To not say something stupid. There was dirt under Maria's nails but she wasn't a friend. Angelica couldn't invite her for a pedicure. Shouldn't comment on the backpack that Maria refused to leave in the car. Keeping what seemed like all of her earthly possessions on her body at all times. Ready to run.

Maria had her reasons, but it didn't exactly inspire warmth in Angelica.

And she wanted that. Maybe it was wrong, maybe Maria would hate her for it- but Angelica wanted to want to take care of her. To feel that warmth.

Angelica was doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons, Cosway would have told her. Helping people wasn't supposed to be about her. Rich kids and their service trips, thinking that a week could change somebody's life. Never bothering to ask if what they were doing was actually effective, or try and work to create more long-term structures. Because what mattered to them wasn't helping people, it was the high of it.

Of course, Cosway couldn't actually tell her anything because she'd decided to live off grid soon after they left college. 

What Angelica did know was that this would pass. The anxiety and the tension would pass, and maybe she wouldn't gain that fuzzy feeling. But she wasn't planning on proving Cosway right and throwing Maria out after a week just because it wasn't making her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"I know we just left the grocery store," Angelica murmured on their way home. "But I was thinking pizza tonight. That's a nice comfort food, isn't it?"

Pizza, Maria could do. 

Talking about work proved to be a little harder, even though Angelica knew Hercules well enough to ask specific questions. Which left Angelica to ramble about her own day, which mostly boiled down to water cooler gossip. There was only so much she could say about her actual job considering the non-disclosure agreement, and while on occasion she toed its edges with friends- Maria wasn't quite that yet.

Hopefully would be. Later.

Time. It would take time. Angelica could give her time, she just didn't know what to do until then.

Settled for picking a 'safe' movie when they made it back to her place. Nothing action or horror that might involve jump scares. Flicked through the options before playing a romantic comedy, something soft and mostly meant to be in the background. Maria sat on the couch for less than ten minutes before jerking out of her seat, and Angelica had a moment of fear that she'd messed up. That it'd been read as something else, as an opening, as-

When Maria reappeared it was with a thick stack of paper towels and Angelica watched as she sat down on the floor. Spread the paper towels around her and over her lap before picking up her slice of pizza again.

Probably smart, considering the color of her couch. "Would you mind if I had one of those?"

Maria blinked at her for a moment before nodding and handing one over. Did her best to smile then, to show her appreciation.

The smile she got in return wasn't huge. Looked more than just a little confused, but Angelica would take it. Snuggled back into her couch for the rest of the movie, letting the corny antics wash over her. Maria got up twice more, cleaning up not only her own, but Angelica's mess as well before dragging one of the quilts from the room she'd slept in the night before. Curled up on her own end of the couch with it tucked tight around her.

When the movie ended, Angelica glanced over to realize that Maria's eyes were closed. Dead to the world. She considered waking the girl up, helping her to a bed where she would most likely sleep better. But it seemed wrong when Maria was so lost to the waking world.

So instead, Angelica crept out of the living room, careful to turn off the lights along the way. Ended her day much the way she began it- removing the rituals of femininity that she wore so often. Opened up her jewelry box so that she could put away the slim silver watch, with its rose-colored diamonds. Undid the silver hoops in her ears, and then the chain around her neck.

Each accessory so lovingly chosen at one point or another. Even being one of the lucky ones, one of the ones on puberty blockers that kept her jaw from angling out when she was young, kept her shoulders becoming too wide. Angelica did her best to stay aware of the things that might give her away. Made sure to never leave the house without makeup, without making sure everything was in place. A picture perfect woman.

Stripped out of the clothing as well. Unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor before removing her slip. Stared at her reflection in the mirror, palms sliding along her naked skin, hands grasping lightly at the small rise of her breasts. Maybe she wasn't an hour glass like Maria, but she wasn't half bad. When she was ready to date again, if she was ready to date again, she shouldn't have trouble.

Angelica shimmied into a pink satin teddy before stepping outside of her room again. Padded quietly toward the living room to double check that Maria was still resting easy. Stood there watching her breathe until sleep pulled at her as well and Angelica returned to her bed.

Crawled under the covers and drifted off with thoughts of the weekend in her head.


	5. Chapter 5

Angelica, as it turned out, liked to sleep in on the weekends.

Saturday, Maria joined her. Slept until nearly noon, exhaustion giving way to a more restful slumber than she'd had in ages. The afternoon passed in a strange silence. Maria helped do the laundry, the dishes, swept the kitchen and vacuumed the living room. Angelica never that far away and yet they'd barely said ten words to one another that weren't about the cleaning. When they'd broken for lunch, Angelica seemed consumed by her own thoughts and Maria hadn't wanted to intrude.

Answered the occasional question that Angelica asked of her. About how far she'd gone in school, about what she could do on a computer. What she liked to do for fun, as if Maria lived the kind of life where fun was a deciding factor in what she did.

Questions that might have seemed more invasive had they happened all at once, rather than scattered over the day. The occasional interruption to the quiet classical music in the background.

In the evening, Angelica apologized for having dinner plans and promised that Maria didn't need to wait up for her. Mentioned that she could take a shower if need be, asked if she needed another set of clothes to change into. Once her host had left, Maria stared at the door for a moment before deciding to call it a night. Something that led her to waking up quite early, especially in comparison to Angelica.

Which left Maria unsure of what to do. While her phone was charged and on the dresser, it didn't change the fact that she didn't have minutes or the ability to use the internet on it. Her backpack held two pairs of clothes, a small first aid kit, the little bit of money she did have. Some granola and one of those breakfast bars that Hercules liked to push in her direction. A small stuffed cat plushie, something that she'd been holding onto since she left home. Never quite ready to get rid of it.

Not much else of importance. Nothing to keep herself amused with. If she'd realized that she would have a place to stay, she might have picked up a book from the library. But unless the weather was good, Maria didn't like to risk it. Didn't want to ruin someone else's things.

A fact that kept Maria from poking around the house, though after what felt like hours of being awake, she did wander into the living room.

Sat down on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, determined not to touch anything. Focused on her breathing- in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Somewhere in the back of her mind, an old theater teacher's voice came through. _Breathe in the positive energy of the world, breathe out all the darkness inside of you._

Much like back then, Maria couldn't help but think that if she did that, there would be nothing left inside of her.

A morbid thought that Maria had thought she'd outgrown.

When the doorbell rang, Maria froze. Wasn't sure what to do. While it wasn't quite dawn, it also wasn't really visiting hours either. Not to mention the fact that it wasn't her house to begin with, and the owner was still asleep. But the person on the other side was persistent.

When it rang a third time, she cautiously got off the floor. Maybe it was a solicitor that she could make go away, or someone looking for a lost dog. Anything that Maria could deal with and hopefully avoid Angelica being woken up.

Instead, Maria found herself pushed out of the way, Hercules waltzing through the door with several plastic bags. "Good morning, I texted Ang."

"She's asleep?" Because what else was she supposed to say?

Part of her wanted to tell him to leave. It wasn't her place to let people in, but this was Hercules. She didn't really want to risk upsetting him and losing the closest thing to a job that she had. Didn't want to risk this place to stay either. Both of them had been so kind to her so far.

Maria's comment slid right past Hercules, he neither made an indication that he heard her nor paused to repeat himself- just kept moving toward the kitchen. Helpless, Maria followed after.

Found him unpacking groceries of all things, and she watched quietly while he dug around beneath the cabinets. Came back out with a waffle iron and some pans. Moved with a casual ease that at least indicated that he'd been here before, was familiar with the house. Not that it made him coming in while Angelica was asleep any better.

"Should I go get Angelica?"

Hercules didn't look up, just shook his head while he broke eggs into a bowl. "Not yet. Let me get this at least half way through, maybe get some coffee going."

Coffee. Angelica did seem to like her coffee- but-

He wasn't supposed to be here. Maria couldn't bring herself to say that. Instead, twitched anxiously in the archway to the kitchen. Tugged on the strings on her hoodie, debating with herself. Working herself up.

For nothing. Because when Angelica wandered down the hall, dressed in a teddy with her hair up in a wrap, she didn't even blink at the sight of Hercules. Walked past them instead to sit at her table, coffee cup in hand.

Only spoke when half of it was finished. "Good morning, Hercules. Maria."

"You know," Hercules said as he placed a waffle in front of Angelica before disappearing to grab two more plates to bring to the table. "When you invite someone over, you should probably be awake to answer the door."

Oh. At least that meant that Angelica knew he'd been coming over.

Maria cut into her waffle, dipping each little square into the puddle of syrup Hercules had poured on her plate. Didn't know how she felt about being here, in this conversation. If Angelica had invited Hercules over, it was probably so that they could talk. She didn't need Maria around, making things weird.

A foot nudged her from under the table, and Maria looked up, startled.

"You with us?" When Maria nodded, Hercules smiled. "Starting to worry there for a moment. You okay for a day of shopping?"

Shopping? Was Angelica ready to start buying furniture maybe? Maria remembered her saying something about redecorating. Except that wasn't what they had in mind at all. Maria nodded without understanding the question and ended up in the passenger seat of Hercules' pickup.

Headed straight for the mall. "I'm not sure-"

"You already agreed." Hercules turned the radio down a few notches. "This isn't charity if that's what's bothering you."

Not charity. Angelica letting her stay was charity, even if Maria did her best to help clean up. Even if Angelica did want company, it still put Maria in her debt. And now this? "I hardly see-"

"I don't have need of a full-time assistant." Maria knew that. Didn't know what it had to do with- "If it makes you feel better, you're helping out our friend as much as she'd be helping you. Yes, you'd probably get the job because Ang and I vouched for you, but that's because she needs someone she can trust. Not because she'd take on someone she didn't think could do the work."

Not that the work sounded all the complicated. Hercules filled Maria in on the way. One of Angelica's friends was a psychologist who needed an office assistant. It explained the questions from the day before, Maria might not have gone to college, but she knew how to use a computer. Had taken a class in high school, knew basic excel. It wouldn't be exciting work. Filing and answering the phone, welcoming people who came in- but it would be work.

Consistent work. Two to three days a week.

When Maria muttered that Angelica hadn't known her long enough to claim Maria was the trustworthy type- Hercules reminded her that while Angelica had only known Maria for a few days, he'd known her for over a year. Enough so that he trusted her to stay in his home, never worried that she might steal or destroy something. Maria staying with Angelica would mean that Maria could be consistent.

It was something most people didn't think about when they thought the homeless should just get a job. Not having a stable place to stay often meant not knowing what transportation would be available, or how they could get to a place when they needed to.

But there was a bus stop near Angelica's. It would be a bit of a walk on days that Angelica couldn't drop her off, but it would be a way to get there. Just take the Green bus.

"I'm not-"

Hercules cut her off as he put the truck in park. "If things go south with Ang, then you can start staying at my place regularly. It'll be a few more bus transfers, but it's doable."

Which still required her to trust that she had a place to rest her head somewhere. But Hercules wouldn't hear any of it. Ushered her into the store, reminding her that they had a specific goal. Two pairs of black slacks, a couple of colorful camis, and a white blouse or two. Considering she'd be behind the scenes, her converse knock-off's would be fine in the meantime, but she'd probably need to get real shoes eventually.

Real. Because if this happened, she would be an adult with an office job. Even if it was just a part-time one.

No matter what they said, Maria wasn't sure she was ready for that. Not sure that they were right that she was trustworthy.

But protesting was futile and she had two options. Dig her heels in and potentially ruin the only two things going right for her at the moment because they wanted to give her a chance for a third thing- Or go with it.

Let them do with her what they wanted. A doll with no control over her own limbs.

Hercules gave her a look, and Maria cringed back from it. Didn't like how he seemed to be sizing her up. Responded minimally to his chatter as they walked through the aisle, pointedly not looking at the prices when he shoved things at her to try on. Versatile basics. Things that could be combined together, so Maria wouldn't have to worry about matching or things being in season. Things that would adaptable.

When everything was picked out, Maria stepped away. Walked away from the line that she and Hercules had been waiting in to go outside and try to breathe again.

Something as simple as shopping shouldn't make her nauseous. But she was. Out and out sick to the stomach.

"You okay?" Hercules' voice came from behind her, and Maria nodded, arms still clutched around her middle as she stared at the concrete. "Come on. Let's get back to the shop so I can get your measurements."

"Let's not and say we did." It was as snarky as her anxiety would let her be at the moment.

Thankfully, Hercules didn't rise to the bait. "If not, Ang will just drop you off tomorrow on her way to work. So now or later?"

Maria was supposed to be working tomorrow, with Hercules. Not taking up his time. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

Hercules shrugged. "You're a good kid, and Angelica and I both know what it's like to be stalled by someone's bad first impression."

Somehow, Maria had a hard time believing that about her host.


End file.
